


The Punishment

by LyzDrake



Category: Highlander - All Media Types
Genre: BAMF Methos, Gen, Magic, Watchers bashing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-21
Updated: 2017-03-21
Packaged: 2018-10-08 17:04:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10391661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LyzDrake/pseuds/LyzDrake
Summary: A bit of a Drabble. We know that some immortals have certain "powers". What if they all did? Shapiro started a war, and his side lost.





	

Duncan MacLeod held his gun at the head of Jacob Galati's murderer, Shapiro. "Do you want a war?' He said lowly, voice tinged in grief. "Ye've made yourself as bad as Horton, and I can no longer abide it."

He felt the warning of an Immortal before Methos stepped into the room. "Mac." He said lowly. "You're right. I am one, or the other. I choose our kind. The Watchers have changed, and I can no longer abide them watching us."

Shapiro jerked sharply. "Methos?" Duncan asked curiously, gun not wavering.

"Methos?" The other Watchers in the room breathed. 

He held out his wrist, and the tattoo faded. "Grab Shapiro's wrist, Mac. We're about to do a working. I realize most Immortals ignore this part of the Game, but I've decided to change the game. I can, you know. After all, I am the First."

MacLeod grabbed Shapiro's wrist, and rested his thumb over the Watcher tattoo. Methos grabbed it beside him. "I call upon the Quickening." Methos intoned. His voice had gone deep, and mystic. "I am the First." He breathed. "I name the bearers of this tattoo, those who call themselves the Watchers, as taboo. They may not come near us. They may not speak of us. They may not Watch us. Our histories will remain forever lost to them. Our kind will never be threatened by them."

Duncan felt the power rising. "I name a change in the Game. No longer shall our kind be witnesses by mortals who Watch. They may not approach us. They will not see us. We are lost to them."

"I summon the knowledge of the Watchers. Let it fill many journals and vanish from their voices and hands. Let their journals and our stolen artifacts reside with the monks of the Paro Taktsang. It will be the new sanctuary of knowledge and the Immortal. So mote it be." Methos finished. As one, the Watchers around them crumpled, only Shapiro standing. "When they wake, none will be able to speak of us." Methos told him. "You will never be able to tell others about us, and everything you knew or took will be taken to a temple in the Himalayas. The monks there are good, and they will be welcomed to learn form us. All our collective knowledge. Everything we have ever experienced or learned. And you've lost it all."

Shapiro crumpled in grief, and soon was as unconscious as the rest. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Methos and Duncan stood in the temple of Park Taktsang. "It's time to change the game, Duncan. I never trusted another Immortal enough to attempt this. I was the first Immortal ever born, over fifteen thousand years ago. After some time, I was captured by a mortal, kept as a slave. When I escaped, I took a Dark Quickening. The two combined together shattered my mind. I joined with three others, and became on of the Four Horsemen, Death, raping and killing thousands. After a time, I took a slave, Cassandra, and while she didn't know it, she helped repair my mind. When I was recovered enough, I drugged the other three, and took their heads. I took Cassandra, and kept her as my slave for another hundred years, before I released her. Sometime along the way, I discovered that as the First, I could change the game, but I needed another with the same goals as myself, and I had to trust them implicitly. I trust you. Let's change the game."

In that temple, surrounded by knowledge, the two Immortals grasped hands. 

"I am Methos the First."

"I am Duncan MacLeod, of the Clan MacLeod. We are united in purpose."

"No more killing. The Quickening no longer goes to the victor of a beheading. It is a source of power, of magic, and when an Immortal dies, it leaves and comes to the monks of this place."

"They will transcribe the memories of the Quickening, and save that knowledge for any to learn from."

"Immortals are to teach the Youngers, and spread to other Holy places, to teach the mortals, and learn from them."

"So mote it be."

"So mote it be."

A wave of power, like a Quickening, spread out from them, and went around the world. It touched all the Immortals, and told them of the new rules. Most headed toward the temple, where they helped sort the knowledge and organize lessons. Some taught swords, others history, and others language. The Immortals no longer played the game, and the Watchers were punished with the loss of all that knowledge. 


End file.
